


suddenly

by Val_Creative



Series: GoT Drabble-Palooza 2019 [8]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cousin Incest, Drabble, Early in Canon, F/M, Guilt, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Fruits are a rarity in the North after the summer-frost lasts through the days and nights.





	suddenly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lofticries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lofticries/gifts).



> AHAAHAHAAA. I'M OUT HERE TESTING WHAT KIND OF SHIPS I CAN WRITE. Requested by lofticries (AO3): "jonsa + longing/pining gazes." Thanks for humoring me bb and giving me something to write for. I HOPE THIS FEEDS THE JONSA FANS A LITTLE BIT. Any comments/thoughts appreciated!
> 
> ((Want a request for GoT? I'm doing 100-500 word drabbles of any ship + any prompt until S8 ends. Rules: you need to comment here and provide a ship and prompt, as well if you want NSFW or SFW. The only requests I'll be looking at is if you ALSO commented about the fic you just read as well. It's only fair. You came to this fic to read it and me doing something for you later on is a sweet bonus!))

 

 

*

Fruits are a rarity in the North after the summer-frost lasts through the days and nights.

And yet, Sansa gets her fill, slicing open thawed peaches and nectarines into her hands, biting down delicately. Their juices slimy and shining. Jon can smell the sweet, fragrant odor in the air and knows Lady Cately glares in his direction.

He mustn't…

He mustn't stare at her daughter. Mustn't chase after wistful, lustful imaginings of Sansa's thighs resting against the sides of Jon's head, downy-soft as peaches. Imagining her own juices soaking her cunt and Jon licking at her virginhood, tasting… …

_He mustn't…_

*

 


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